Her Last Message
by gopadfoot
Summary: Mary leaves a message to be seen posthumously. Only she doesn't send it to Sherlock. She sends it to John.


John Watson was both astounded and terrified when he found the DVD with the words "Miss Me?" written on it, the words taunting him, mocking his helplessness.

His first thought was "Moriarty". His second one was "Sherlock." He needed to tell Sherlock about this. But he couldn't. Not when the consulting detective had caused the death of his wife.

With trembling hands, he inserted the disk, and turned the player on. He staggered in shock when he saw the very familiar face that smiled at him. "Oh, Mary," he whispered. "Mary..." he reached blindly for the player and turned it off. "No, I can't, I can't..." There were tears running freely down his cheeks, though he had believed for a while that he had exhausted them all.

After a half-hour, he had composed himself somewhat. He turned the DVD player back on, determined to hear his beloved Mary speak once more, even if it was from beyond the grave.

"Thought that would get your attention, sweetheart!" she winked saucily, and John found himself smiling, despite his still wet eyes. Mary would always be Mary; even death couldn't change that.

"If you're watching this, it means I'm probably dead. No, no, don't start crying again, John. Cheer up! I'm having the time of my life if you must know, looking down from above and laughing at how predictable you are. Hey, dont get insulted, of course you are predictable! You are, and will always be, my John.

"Now listen carefully, you big prat. I know you've been throwing yourself the most massive pity party the world has ever witnessed, complete with your not-so-adorable sulking and fits of not-so-lovable anger. Yeah, I love you, John, and you are the best man I've ever met, but you're as human as anyone else, and you have your little human foibles. So, unless you want me to be very angry at you, and throw you rotten tomatoes from the sky, listen up, John. Listen to me.

"You are used to being a hero. The soldier who fights for his country, the doctor who saves lives, the detective's partner who helps solve crimes and puts the bad guys away, and did I mention the gallant knight who saves the fair maiden from the horrors of loneliness?" Mary winked again, and John let out a strangled half-sob, half-laugh.

"Now, John, knowing you, you won't let anyone help you. You will wallow in self-pity until kingdom come. Oh, and you'll find yourself the perfect scapegoat to blame all your ills on, so that you won't have to accept responsibility for the way you're acting.

"Who was it again, the man who vowed to protect us, no matter what? Who will you blame if I'm no longer there? Yeah, that part's clear as mud. So our poor little monster is not only mourning my death, but is blaming himself for it, and you are not helping matters by agreeing with him.

"John, if this is indeed the case, you should know I'm very, very cross with you. I'm going to add some more rotten stuff to the mix I'll be throwing. Did you forget who was the one who gave me a second chance? Did you forget how, after the abominable way I treated him, he not only forgave me, but encouraged you to do that too, and gave us both a chance at happiness?

"Oh, and let's not forget who risked his freedom, and his very life, to remove the threat to our happiness. I've been a coward, John. I've never thanked him for shooting that evil man, despite knowing that he would pay the consequences. Did you thank him, John? Would you, please, thank him for me, for all of us?

"I'm not prescient enough to know exactly how I went. I do hope it was somehow heroic, in a way that would do you proud. Whatever happened, you should know that it was almost inevitable. John, I was living on borrowed time. Even if one threat was eliminated, there would always be another. John... I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry I left our Rosie without a mother. But if I'm gone, you're safe, and that's all that matters to me.

"I do know, that no matter what, our favorite sociopath has done everything in his power to save me. He isn't omniscient, however, and even that arrogant git of a detective can sometimes overlook a clue. And then he will forever blame himself for it.

"John, be a hero for me, one last time. Put your self-indulgent sulking aside, and go on a mission for me. Save Sherlock Holmes. Yes, he needs you. Desparately. Say that you don't blame him, and say it like you mean it. Thank him for saving me, giving me the chance to have our precious Rosamund, and the time to bond with her, however short that was.

"Save him, and let him save you. Being a hero is as much about knowing how to recieve as knowing how to give. Be there for each other. Now that I'm gone, you need him more than ever, and the same goes for him. Do it, John, do it for me, even if your anger is still blinding you. One day, you'll look back and realize how right I was. But then, I'm always right, aren't I?"

Mary was now smiling tearfully at the camera. "Go, John. Give my love to my daughter, and take care of her. Go save yourself before you save the world once again. I love you, always and forever."

John Watson, bereaved widower, single father, and estranged friend, sat and wept for a long time.


End file.
